Reflections
by Serias
Summary: No one really knew how Sylar escaped the burning building, except for one person. Syelle, sylar/elle in a round about way.
1. Prologue

Distorted Reflections

_by Serias_

_Prologue_

"_So, friend, when I first looked upon your face, our thoughts gave answer each to each. Opposed mirrors each reflecting each, although I knew not in what time or place, methought that I had often met with you, and each had lived in other's mind and speech." _

Lord Tennyson

She had lived her entire life with the radius of a single city block, at least, physically. Her mind had the pleasure of taking many adventures her body was unable to do. So when the locks clicked, freeing her from her cage, and when she found that no one was standing outside of the door, she knew not what to do. She could venture out into the halls of the place she had been raised, or she could remain with in the confines of her room, safe, secure. Something in the back of her mind told her, if she did not leave it now, she would find herself in a predicament that would lead to her death.

She was what she had always been, a shadow. A dark mimic of something that lived in full color, lived a full life. She had seen the man with the dark hair, the way he tortured his victims, toying with them like a cat might a mouse. It excited her and scared her all at the same time. She knew all to well who he was, and evidenced by the fact that her so-called sister was not in tow, he had likely killed the electrifying blond. Her mouth turned downwards, she had never really gotten the chance to know Elle, and now she never would.

She watched them all, wanting to see it all play out before she made any decisions as to what her role was in all of this. But is when the building began to go up in flames, when the so-called heroes had fled the premises, she decided it was time to be more than a shadow. Sylar was incapacitated, a shard of glass sticking out of his skull, hindering his brain from being able to heal his wound. She wretched it free, and awaited the natural consequence of her action. Groggily, he got to his feet, and she back pedaled, to allow him the room he would need to stand. But when his eyes, those eyes that held such violence and such sorrow, found their gaze upon her, his hand instantly thrust outward.

She felt the backward motion of her feet being dragged upon the floor as his telekinesis pushed her backwards, until her back collided with the wall. She grunted, the pain working it's way through her, brow furrowing as crystal colored irises filled with anger as she met his gaze.

"Nice way to treat the girl who just saved you from ending up ashes." She spat at him, finally showing the attitude people like Angela and Bob had given birth too. Years of being caged like an animal, treated like a freak, had taken their toll on her once congenial nature.

"You're dead. I burned the body myself..." He growled in retort, his other hand flying upwards, that telling pointer finger directed at her forehead. "...Fuck...I ignited the flames with your own ability, for hellssake." He cursed, but she simply smiled.

"I'm the ghost of Christmas past, Sylar...Come to show you your wicked ways." She waited for a response, but he seemed speechless. So instead she decided to tell the truth.

"I'm not Elle...Well I'm not Elle in the way you're thinking. Genetically? Absolutely. Elle, baby girl of Tyrannical Bob? Not at all." She felt his grip loosen, as if he knew she was telling the truth to him, "I have a number, 8029. I'm attempt 8 at cloning Elle Bishop, and I've got under .029 percent difference in my genetic code....My eyes are more gray than hers ever were, mostly. They call me 'Eight', or 'Crazy Eights' if they're brave." She felt as if she were babbling, but it was important he not believe her to be some kind of ghost.

"Why did you save me?" That gravelly tone had entered his voice again.

"Because...You're the only way they're not going to lock me back up in a cage again. And you might need me, as much as they want me." She shrugged her shoulders, as her feet finally touched the ground once again.

"Why would I ever need you?" He questioned, his brows knitting together to form a skeptical look.

"Because I'm Primatech's backup hard drive. I can help you find your parents."


	2. I tremble, they're gonna eat me alive

_A/N – I did some things with this first chapter I've never really tried before, hope you enjoy it._

Distorted Reflections

By Serias

Chapter 1

Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like hammer.

Hard to be soft, tough to be tender.

_I killed Elle Bishop._

_She was the closest thing to romantic love I had experienced, the first time I was tempted to try to be open and honest in a relationship with a woman, since I knew I was 'special.'_

_Honesty is impossible to do with a liar._

_Elle was childlike, and desperately sought approval. First from her father and the company, and then from me._

_She was a weakness. A liability. _

_My weakness._

_That was why I burned the body, but that was not why I killed her. If Noah or someone brought her back, they could use her against me._

_I killed her because on the beach I had a moment of epiphany, I figured out how Elle Bishop worked. Like a damaged time piece, she ticked out sync. I also realized something more alarming._

_I couldn't fix her._

_Things that are not fixable have no chance, just misery. Hurt. Pain._

_I didn't want that for Elle Bishop._

_*******_

_I was Elle Bishop._

_For all intents and purposes, I was. The main difference was that I never had my memory swiped and she lived a life less confined than mine. I personally believe the Houdini the Haitian did on her mind is what made her so psychotic. _

_That's why they locked me up._

_Because I was invaluable to them, and they thought the psychosis was genetic._

_It wasn't._

_If anything, knowing all that I knew and know brought my mind to a crystal clear sanity. The more information I gained, the more clear things became. I would never abuse the powers they had used me to store, because I had seen the chaos and pain that caused suffering._

_I didn't want people to suffer._

_And she always got a kick out of the pain she inflicted. Deep down I knew._

_I was not Elle Bishop._

_*****_

She had let him follow the path he chose of his own volition, going to his father's house and asking the man point blank about his lineage. He had let her tag along for the follow up trip to the house of the man who was supposedly his real father. She was well aware that he was not doing it out of the kindness of his heart, the look he kept giving her proved it.

Every once in a while she would catch him staring at her, a wistful sense of confusion in his eyes. Mind reading wasn't needed at this point, he was debating whether he could let her survive, or if she was going to become nothing more than another weakness he couldn't afford. She had tried to convince him, she was more than an echo of the woman he had fallen in love with, and that she had no vested interest in rekindling a love she was never actually a part of.

He wasn't taking her seriously, not yet. But when he found many of the breadcrumbs he was following were nothing more than dead ends, he would finally turn to her for advice. And then, she would show him how invaluable she would be to his search. More than that, his survival. Nathan Petrelli was mounting a sort of defense against all of them, and she had every intention of avoiding that entrapment. She was not going to trade one cage, for another.

He had offered her a place to stay, and she found him to be a rather taciturn man, despite the fact that anything she had ever heard of him made her believe the contrary was true. She wondered if the offer was out of guilt, as if he were paying penance for the crime he had committed against her genetic twin.

When he returned from his excursion he seemed somewhat worn out, and she decided it was not best to approach, but instead he found her, all but bursting into the room she now inhabited.

"What can you do and what do you know?" He growled.

The pointer finger of his right hand twitched where it hung at his side, but he seemed in control for the most part. He was not going to threaten the information out of her, and truthfully he didn't need too. She looked up at him, her face blank with stoicism. She was afraid of him, she was worried he might kill her, but that did not negate the fact he was likely the only person that could protect her from people like Angela.

But she did not quiver, or show any sort of weakness. If he thought her weak, he might later attempt to exploit it. Sucking in a slow breath, she began.

"I am they're hard drive, but I wasn't always. I was injected with the formula, they knew my DNA could handle abilities, even though I didn't end up with electricity like Elle. Mine is a sort of mimicry, almost like a blend of the abilities you and Peter Petrelli, if I see an ability being used, I can pick up on how it works and integrate and enable myself to wield it." She eyed his hands again, fully aware that speaking of power may cause him to slice open her skull. "About seven years ago I acquired the ability to memorize everything I saw, so they had me integrate all the information in all the files, in case there was some sort of full scaled attack and everything was compromised."

His brow furrowed deeper, almost looking like he was angry at her for some unknown sin. "So that's how you're planning to help me, name off everything you know about me that was in my file? My father's name?"

This was the moment that made her very nervous, because she was offering up what she knew and hoping he would not dispose of her shortly there after.

"I don't know his name. I know that your father is more like you than you want to know, but I can help you find him. As questions arise, I'll know where to look for answers. Who might know what you need to learn. I'm a valuable resource you can either use, or...not." she ended the statement with a shrug of her shoulders, but the nonchalance of the action was masking a deeper fear that was pulling at her internally.

"You were in Level 5, weren't you?" Something in his tone had softened, but only slightly. There was still the sheer intimidation he often inspired to those he met, but there was something else there, possibly some compassion for being little more than a human hard drive trapped in a cage.

"I was. A more private, tighter locked cell. They didn't want to loose me."

It was her life, and had she not known much beyond it, likely she would not have pined for the outside world. But she did know more, she had seen more with her minds eye, and that had caused her to yearn to see what was beyond the four walls she inhabited. But no matter the amount of power she gained, they found a new way to keep her locked away from the world.

She remembered the first time she had attempted to escape, was the night Elle had overloaded the grid. Almost every lock had come undone, and she simple had to figure out a code lock which was aided by a generator and a key lock she might be able to jimmy with telekinesis.

But by the time she had figured out the code, and started on the second lock, she found Angela standing at her door. The moment was so clear in her memory, and she could replay it as if she were living it again.

"_You're not leaving this facility, dear. And if you attempt to, you should know that we would be more than willing to dispose of you if we can't recapture you. Realistically we could simply regrown a new version of you, and re-integrate the information once she's old enough." _

_Angela looked as she always did, her skin was smooth as marble, and she seemed as hard as the stone that complexion echoed. A white Queen, once a pawn the kind that had crossed over the entire board more than once, and now wielded powers far beyond those she had began the game with. She had gone from a piece to be moved, to the one moving all the pieces. _

_And that was why I hated her, because deep down I knew I wanted to be like her, rather than a helpless pawn, someone of power. Someone in control of not only the destiny of those around them, but their own destiny. _

"_Why would I ever want to escape? Four meals a day, nice comfy cot, occasional invasive experiments, if this isn't Heaven? I don't know what would be." I spat back at her, knowing that she had become more than accustom to my attitude. "Where's Bobby? Daddy dearest hasn't been to visit in awhile." _

"_Sylar killed him." There was no utterance of condolences, and I hadn't expected her to comfort me. Angela Petrelli was the closest thing I had to a mother, mostly because she had watched me grow and mature, even kept tabs on me when it wasn't specifically her job to do so. But she was no June Cleaver, and never would be, and that might be why I hated her and admired her all at the same time._

"_Too bad, sooner or later I was going to either use the Elle sympathy card, or simply sneak out and replace her." Angela actually smirked at that, so I continued the joke. "You know, toss her back in this cage, fabricate that need for approval, fail miserably at life in general." _

_I could see it in her eyes she appreciated what I was saying, but for a woman made of stone, that would the closest thing I ever saw to her showing compassion on my behalf. A part of me thought I could offer myself as a apprentice, telling her that if she removed me from my shackles that I would endeavor to be more like her. But deep down I knew that I would never be released, I was far to valuable at this point._

"_So I'm guessing this is the part where you lock me back up, and throw the key away?" It was almost as if saying it before it actually happened gave me some sort of control, though I knew full well it didn't. _

"_Sorry, dear. This is truly the safest place for you, especially with all that's about to happen. Be thankful you're in here, the world outside is much more....treacherous." It almost sounded as if she was trying to comfort me, or maybe she was envious that I got to sit in a cell block, separated from the world, and she had to be at constant war with life._

_But with that she turned, and the sound of the door slamming back in my face reverberated through the room, as if it's echo was a final close on some chapter of my life. A foreshadowing of things to come._

His next question brought her back to reality, pulling her from the vivid memories of her mind.

"So you'll help me, even though you can defend yourself?

She nodded, now turning from him, as he seemed to finally relax. She wasn't completely sure how to explain it too him. But she would attempt to level with him none the less.

"Because these powers, this information, is the reason they locked me up and using it would draw them too me. It's better I remain the shadow I've always been, as much as I really don't like the idea of letting a guy, or anyone for that matter, protect me."

Her independence was only something she was recently truly allowed to have, and that meant she really didn't want to surrender it in any aspect. And there was something ironic in the fact that she was trusting the man who had killed the woman who she was made from.

She could see that look in his eyes again, the one of longing and perhaps regret. She knew in the back of her mind this was going to be painful for him, like a dull ache that would never go away as long as he had the physical haunting of her in his life.

"I understand." was all he could utter in response, though she wasn't sure what he meant by the words. Maybe he understood what she meant, or why she was doing it, or what she was going through. Another thing she had discovered about Gabriel Gray is that for the most part, he was socially awkward, not from lack of trying, but probably do to lack of practice.

"I should get some sleep, it's nice to actually have a bed for once." She said, offering him a way out of the situation, that he seemed to desperately need at this point.

He stood there for a second, and then nodded, as if he debated his course of action for a moment before deciding what to do. "I'll talk to you in the morning."

*****

He shuffled off to his bedroom, unsure of how to feel about the entire situation. It was an odd place for him emotionally to be dealing with Elle's face, even though the woman behind those eyes, with their slightly different color, was a different person in every way.

For sure he would spend the night awake, thinking back on the time he had spent with the childlike blond, and the impact that short experience was now seeming to have on every facet of his life. But when he did crawl into the bed, he found the opposite to happen, his eyelids felt almost impossibly heavy, and he could not resist their encouragement. Off to dreamland, he went.

"_Wakey, wakey. I stole your nose in your sleep, Gabey." I stirred, my brain at first thinking it was Eight, taunting me for some odd reason that I couldn't make sense of with my groggy mind. But when my dark chocolate eyes fluttered open, the reality, or surrealism of the situation was realized.. _

_At first, through my blurry vision made it hard to make out the mark of crimson across her forehead, but that did not blur my instant knowledge as to who she was. "How are you he--....You're dead."_

_She smiled, in that innocent way she did the day she came to my apartment with pie. She then nodded her head in a whimiscal way that only Elle could pull off. _

"_That I am. Such a bummer, huh? I had all these wonderful little plans for us, we'd settle down, toy with the neighbors, move, find some new play things." She sat at the edge of the bed, her legs crossed under her Indian style, and I noted the fact that she wasn't wearing my shirt, as she had been when she died. _

"_I'm sorry, Elle. I wanted to save you, I didn't know how." _

_She put up a hand to silence me, shaking her head. The wound didn't bleed further, it just stayed there, frozen. "At this point, I'm just wondering what you have planned for mini me. Or duplicate me. Whatever. I'm sure there are so twisted fantasies you didn't get to play out, and Eight...well the thought alone of having a clone of the girlfriend you murder kind of screams Kink, Gabe." _

_I knew deep down this was how Elle really was, that even in her moments of vulnerability and weakness, this was how she usually was with the world. Everything was a game to her, everyone sort of a prey to her, even me. I never doubted she took compassion on me when she was on assignment, but it was in her to obey, lie, cheat, do whatever needed to be done. _

"_She's not you, Elle." I said in weak protest, wondering what she would think of that sort of confession. Bending forward, she shifted onto all fours and began to crawl toward me, until her head settled on my chest and her body was slightly draped around mine. _

"_That's just the trick of it, isn't it? You're doing all this self healing with the search for your father, pretty soon you won't be all that damaged." She patted my chest reassuringly. "And Eight, despite living in a cage she isn't all that wounded, it's quite odd...." _

_I knew what she was saying, but I ignored it. This girl was just another person in my complicated and bloody life, that didn't mean I had to be concerned beyond what I agreed too. Or that I wanted to be concerned about her. _

"_We have a deal. I'll stick to it, then we'll go our separate ways." _

_I finally uttered, hoping that the sense of stoicism I was trying to lace my words with came through. Elle always seemed to see right through me, it was part of why she made me so vulnerable, so weak. _

"_Surrrrre. Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, pinning her hands on the side of her head with your ability, and kissing her like you used to kiss me. Seeing if she would be receptive, if you could mend your broken relationship with her, since you can't very well do it with me."_

_There was still the sing song tone in her voice, as if this version of her could never be completely serious for more than short spurts. And then a smile curled on her lips, and she sat up, so she was looking down on me, looming over me._

"_You fix things, Gabriel. And she's the only way you could ever fix whatever warped version of us you have in your head. It's sweet, in a sick way."_

_Before I could answer, or voice a protest against her assumption, she pressed her lips hard against mine. Bruising and brutal was the kiss, so much so that it startled me, and ripped me from my dream state._

_*****_

When he shot up in bed, he found Eight standing in his door way, looking slightly confused. It took him a moment to realize that she was in fact Eight, and not some dream of Elle he had been having moments before.

"You okay?" She asked, a moderate sound of concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nightmares...Been having them for awhile."


	3. Never expect to be sure

_A/N – Reviews are what motivate me to keep going, knowing people are actually enjoying it. _

_So it's likely the more I get, the faster things will get written. So be kind, and please review. =]_

Distorted Reflections

By Serias

Chapter 2

_I am a man possessed. A man haunted._

_I've killed dozens of people. _

_And yet, the only one that makes my nights restless, seems to be sleeping in the next room at the same time. Life is often a cruel illusion, but this whole situation takes it to the next level._

_I've debated killing Eight from the moment I met her. _

_If I weren't in better control of myself, and my hunger, I know I would have by now. I'm intolerant for anything that upsets the delicate balance I've set up for myself. _

_Even though they look like the same person, Eight seems to have a beauty that Elle didn't hold. Not that one is more attractive than the other, simply different. _

_She makes me nervous. _

_She makes me want to forget, or see if she has shape shifting in her box of abilities. If she had someone else's face maybe this wouldn't feel so impossible. _

_She would be easy to shape, to teach. She's like clay in my very capable hands on some level, and yet I can't bring myself to try anything. She's the only toy I've never wanted to play with._

******

_Realistically, he's the third person I've really ever met._

_And he scares the shit out of me. _

_I would never let him know that, men like him can smell fear a mile away. He feeds off of it, whether he admits it at this point or not. _

_Control is like a drug, and Sylar has had control for a long time now. _

_I think that's why the recent reappearance of Gabriel Gray scares him so much, he has to not only face down his demons, but possibly relinquish that control he's clung to for so long._

_What scares me more than the fact that he's been a stone cold killer, more than his power, more than his sadism...is the fact that on some level he seems like he's starting to care about me._

_When people care about things, they get sloppy. They die. They get their objects of care killed._

_And I'm not willing to die to save him. Not like she did._

_******_

She had gone to her room to change, realizing that her pajamas wouldn't be the best way to face the day. It wasn't until the smell of sugar and baked goods filled her nostrils, that she once again made her way out of the small room he had offered her.

"You made breakfast?" She arched a brow, she didn't understand him at all. He could kill a man without a second thought, and yet there he was, hovering over a waffle iron. She wasn't going to attempt to understand him any further, but obviously the look on her face gave away something she hadn't meant too.

"I learned to cook before I...started collecting abilities." He handed her a plate, a completed meal on it. She took a seat at the counter, fully aware of how awkward this entire situation felt. Gabriel was just trying not to allow his thoughts to drift, to let himself pretend that it was Elle at his counter, and that everything had worked out between them.

That they could have achieved a semi-normal life, that he was making breakfast for her after some romantic evening, where he would have surprised her with flowers. Girls liked flowers. Or at least he thought they did. Something told him that maybe Elle wouldn't, she had such an upbringing that was drastically different from a typical girl.

"It's good." She was simply filling in the silence at this point, because neither had spent enough time building the required skills to socialize. The main people she had talked to were Bob and Angela, and she hated them both on some level. She didn't harbor such a poor sentiment for Gabriel, even though she was confident there probably was a wide group that did.

He fidgeted a moment at the kitchen counter, as if attempting to organize this thoughts before they fell from his mouth. "They're picking us off, one by one. That's what happened to me in my father's house, they're attempting to contain anyone with abilities. I think the only person excluded at this point, is Angela Petrelli."

She stopped mid bite, looking up at him like a deer would at oncoming headlights. Not because of what he had just told her, she was already aware that Nathan was coming for all of them, but for the fact that Angela was excluded. The woman always managed to keep her head above water.

She was also shocked at the inherent fact that he was asking her advice, her strategy. "This relates to you finding your father, doesn't it? You want to know if she knows anything...." The last part was a statement, she didn't have to be a mind reader to understand what he was getting at. She placed her fork back on her plate, and slid palms on either side of it, using their leverage to stand. "This was a bad idea, a bad deal. I should go."

Eight didn't even make eye contact before pivoting, heading back to her room. She had every intention of vacating the premises as soon as possible. "I'm not going after Angela. I know better." Before she could take another step, she was frozen in place, no doubt he had used his telekinesis to stop her forward progression. But the moment he moved to stand infront of her, he released his invisible grip on her, replacing it with a physical one. His hands were on either side of her shoulders, coaxing her to look up at him. "She knows something. I have to get her alone, and force her to tell me."

"Because that went so incredibly well the last time."

Elle would have said it sarcastically, but there was no sort of jest in Eight's voice. She was leveling with him, she stepped backwards, freeing herself of his grasp.

"Angela Petrelli is like Mother Nature, you go against her and she's going to come back at you with the fury of floods and lightning till you're leveled. She's smarter than you, or me, or anyone that I know of. Even Nathan. If you think she's naive enough to believe you're dead? You're wrong."

He shook his head, "I know she's always one step ahead." A sigh fell from his lips, "But I'm guessing she doesn't fathom the first person you would run to, would be me. We need to get to her. Despite what you think."

Her teeth gritted together, fist clenching with anger. He didn't seem to get the entire reason she had come to him and now she was going to make it clearer than crystal. "My entire point in coming to you? Was so I would not run back into her. If she catches me, do you know what happens Gabriel? I don't spend a few weeks in there, not like you did, I live my life in whatever new cage they've made to replace level five."

The tone of her voice was laced with acid, as if challenging him to even think about mentioning this whole plan again. The problem was, he was not the kind of man to easily back down. He had set after and killed Arthur Petrelli, almost as if it were effortless for him.

"I won't let them take you." Her eyes had fell to the floor after she said her angered words, but the hidden words beneath his statement had made her gaze drift back up to his. He didn't say the word 'again', but something about the way he had spoken made her think he suppressed it. It wasn't meant for her, it was meant for Elle.

They stood there, locked in a stare for what felt like a short lifetime. In her mind she was debating whether or not it was worth the risk, whether or not whatever was going on with him was important enough to chance being caught again. Deep down she knew he meant it, that he wouldn't let them capture her again, but one swift jagged piece of metal to the back of the base of his head, and he wouldn't be able to fulfill that vow.

"Fine, I'll do it."

She could sense relief rushing through him, possibly because he was living a life he could only assume was some sort of lie. How could a person know who they were if they did not know where they came from? She was going to find Angela and face the one person she felt any sort of familial bond with, who had also subjected her to a life so cruel and usual. And now she was about to sacrifice her safety for a man that had killed the only girl that truly was her family.

Somehow the next words that he uttered seemed to soften the sting a little.

"Thank you."


	4. Lower than deep

Distorted Reflections

_by Serias_

_Chapter 3_

_I'm not some Antihero seeking redemption._

_I don't care to be absolved for my sins._

_Eight is not the Angelic faced answer to some forsaken prayer._

_I'm not the man I was a year ago._

_Elle changed me. Changed Everything._

_I don't kill people...._

_Well, not as much as I used to._

_It's an improvement, right?_

_And I'll do what I said, I'll keep my word to Eight._

_Honestly. It's new and different._

_So is she._

_******_

_Angela Petrelli is someone I don't want to face._

_On some level I know it's because I want her to be proud of me._

_Or envious._

_It's all so fucking twisted._

_Either way is a form of approval. _

_And that's what I really want. The Ice Queen herself to deem me worthy._

_As if then she'd allow me into her blessed court._

_We all need illusions. They keep us going._

_Don't they?_

******

"This is a bad idea, by the way." Eight knew she had said it many times, but it hadn't seemed to stick yet, so she would continue trying till he understood her opinion on the matter. "You can't sneak up on a woman who has visions of the future, it's not logical."

He didn't respond, merely shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. The way the couple had paused in front of Angela's large front door might lead someone to believe they were a young couple in love, standing on the doorstep of the future in-laws. But the way Gabriel used his telekinesis to break in and turn the lock, would prove to that someone that this was a visit of an entirely different nature.

Eight had expected they would either be bombarded by security, or get lucky and find Angela asleep in her bed. So what happened when she entered the house, and turned to see tea neatly set up in the room adjacent to the entrance, was quite a shock to the small blond. Angela appeared, almost out of nowhere, and she could sense the tension within Gabriel starting to grow, even though he didn't make a move to subdue the older woman. Not yet at least.

"You're late, Eight. I was expecting you to be here at least a half hour ago." Eight looked confused, her brow furrowing in a question that her lips dared not to speak. Angela clicked her tongue and Eight felt a weird sensation as the gracefully aging beauty approached her, as if the familiarity was a good thing.

"I can tell your companion wants to kill me, but I think it would be best you hear me out before he lobotomizes me." Both Eight and Gabriel looked to each other for guidance, but the confusion they both felt meant they found no answers. So Eight simply looked back towards Angela, trying her best to keep her features tight.

Gabriel's gaze turned back to Angela, his eyes holding such anger and reverence it was starting to intimidate even Eight, and she wasn't the person it was directed out. Eight put a hand on his shoulder, to steady him, maybe even to calm him down some. "Let her talk."

Angela gave Gabriel a smug grin, like the cat who had caught the mouse. "Nathan's plans will inevitably catch up with everyone. I have immunity, but let's be honest, that will only hold up for so long. So I've decided, it's best to run a counter operation, and you two are crucial to it." Her hands folded up in front of her, serene and regal in her posture. "You more or less are the two most powerful people on the planet right now, in such a political climate it might be best to use that."

Eight knew she was right, but she wasn't hear to be corralled into some grand scheme. She was here to get answers for Gabriel, and possibly a few for herself. "I'll make you a deal....Since that seems to be what you understand. Gabriel wants to find his father, you give us the information we need and answer one other question I have, and then...Whatever you need to save the world, I'll gladly volunteer myself, as long as you don't throw me back in a cage after I do."

Eight's face was devoid of emotion, though she could feel Gabriel looking at her in wonderment, that she had more or less just offered her life and freedom in order to procure the information he wanted. Later she would tell herself it was simply because that was all a part of a plan, but something deeper was likely the real cause for the action.

"What's the question, dear?"

The young blond fidgeted for a moment, before meeting Angela's eyes dead on. "Did you or anyone else at Primatech ever call me anything other than Eight?" Eyebrows arched, then softened as her confidence made a return with the pat of Gabriel's hand on her shoulder. "Because no offense, but naming a kid after numbers is kind of dooming her to grow up with a whole mess of personality issues."

Her shoulders shrugged upwards, and a small smirk blossomed upon her lips. But Angela's usually winning facade seemed to crack slightly at the question. "When you were born, they still weren't sure if you were going to survive, your lungs weren't developing as they should have. The doctor suggested you be handled, and cradled like a normal baby might be, that your need for human affection would help improve your overall health if it was met."

It was the oddest thing to Eight, because she could see that this was actually a struggle for Angela to get through, as the elder woman seemed to blink repeatedly, to keep the look of tears in her eyes. "Peter had just turned two, and I missed having a baby. Bob took no interest in you, thinking you were nothing more than company property. So I took it upon myself to look after you, and at the time I naively nick named you Esperanza, the Spanish word for Hope. I'd coo Essie to you as you laid in your incubator. Arthur manipulated a good amount of those memories out of me, but no matter how much he erased it, I still kept some sort of connection with you."

Eight felt both patronized and relieved at the same time, some part of her had always known there was a reason for the slightly familial connection she felt to Angela, and now it was explained. But at the same time, the woman standing before her had not sought to free her at any point during this time.

"We should go."

Was all she could say, pivoting back towards the door. Angela didn't have to ask the question that was lingering on her mind, but Eight didn't turn to back to face her in order to ask it.

"Give Gabriel what you know about his father, and I will come back when you need me, and do what needs to be done. I'll wait outside."

She shoved her hands into her pockets, and did not offer a single glance back to Angela. She couldn't, for fear weakness would overtake her and will her to forgive the closest thing she had to a mother figure all her trespasses. So she simply hastened out the door, and collapsed on the steps, weighed heavy with the truths of her life.


End file.
